Maybe This Time
by Liza's Lil Protege
Summary: My take on what could have been a sequel to the musical/movie, "Cabaret".
1. Part One

The year was 1945, World War II was finally over, and the world could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Brian Roberts, now an accomplished author of 3 novels, suddenly had the urge for travel, back to where it all began. Throughout the duration of the war, his mind kept returning to that unique woman with the flashing eyes and the divinely decadent green fingernails. Where was she now? She didn't fit into the Aryan ideal in the least...The thought that something may have happened to her turned his stomach every time he thought about it. He'd never forgive himself as long as he lived. It was a recurring worry that would keep him lying awake in bed at night, the guilt eating him alive. _Oh god, why couldn't I have tried harder to make things work, why couldn't I have forgiven her? She only did what she thought to be the right thing..._

It was during one of these sleepless nights that Brian made up his mind: he would return to Berlin and do whatever it took to track down Sally's current whereabouts - even if it ended up leading him to a gravesite ultimately. He HAD to know what had become of her, or the uncertainty would consume him. It was already beginning to do just that.

* * *

Brian couldn't help but feel a distinct sense of deja vu as he rode the train from London to Berlin. This was exactly how his whole adventure had began 6 years prior, and a similar, nearly palpable magic seemed to surround him in the air. He felt a strong sense that Sally was alright, wherever she was - but would his search lead him to her or not? Would she remember him? Better still, would she even speak to him or have forgiven him after all this time for everything that had happened?


	2. Part Two

Upon arrival, Brian soon realized there were practically a million different places Sally could be... and this was just if she still lived within city limits! Much to his dismay, Berlin was a very different place than when he'd left it. Even with his surroundings being so different, he managed to find his way around well enough - he still remembered enough German to get by. Even if he did get lost, he figured the ensuing adventure could make for a great new novel.

His first stop lead him to a dead-end. The street on which the little inn Sally used to rent a room in was now completely filled with large shops and hotels. Where was Frauline Khost? Frauline Myer? Frauline Schneider? Along with all the other colorful characters that used to co-habitate those halls? They couldn't ALL be gone...could they?

He entered the large, looming hotel that stood where the old inn used to live. The once modest sitting room/communal area was now a grand lobby, completely with tall stone pillars stretching skyward, looking almost as though they had been plucked straight from the Roman ruins. Most of the room echoed a vision of mahogany: mahogany walls, mahogany chairs, a mahogany desk... Accents of gold and silver glimmered in the late afternoon sun's glow, peeking in as if to say hello from the heavens, and illuminating all it touched in a celestial fashion.

Brian approached the front desk, as there was no line to wait through, and tapped the little silver bell on the desk. A man in an emerald green suit with shimmery gold buttons down the front approached.

"May I help you, sir?" he asked in a heavy German accent. This man looked vaguely familiar to Brian, but he couldn't place where from. A past lover, perhaps? He studied his features closely.

"You knew I was English?" Brian asked, perplexed by how he could possibly know this without him even opening his mouth.

"Your passport, sir."

"Hm?" He clutched it a little tighter, unsure of why he'd be asked to show his passport just to ask for lodging.

"Your passport, sir," the man repeated. "Your passport is English."

"Oh...oh!" Brian chuckled, just now catching on to what he'd meant. "Yes it is, very good for noticing."

"May I offer you lodging for your stay in Berlin, good sir?" the man asked with a smile. Brian really couldn't shake the feeling that he KNEW this man...

"No...well, yes, I mean...I had a question I wanted to ask you first--"

"I'm married," the man kidded.

"What? Oh... haha, no, nothing like that..." He felt his cheeks grow hot; was his sexuality really _that_ obvious? "No, what I wanted to ask was, what's happened to Frauline Schneider's old establishment that used to be here?"

The man sighed. "It must have been a long time since your last stay here, sir."

"Yes it has, about 6 years actually."

"All of the old buildings that used to be here have been bought out."

"Bought out? By who, if you don't mind my asking?"

"By a Maxemillion Reinhardt."

Maxemillion Reinhardt...MAX REINHARDT! Finally, a name he knew! "And what of Frauline, did he kick her to the curb?"

"Frauline Schneider married a Jew..."

"Oh no..." Brian's heart sank. He knew where this story was headed, and he didn't really want to hear the rest of it. "And all the others?" He figured he shouldn't mention anyone else by name, for fear of looking like he was asking for too much information.

"Different fates for different peoples," he replied. He tried to sway the conversation back in a professional direction. "May I assign you to a room, sir?"

Although feeling a little defeated, he agreed, and let a bellboy take his suitcase up to his room. As he got his key from the man at the desk, he couldn't help but notice that the small golden name tag at his chest was only engraved with the letters M.C. "You only use initials for your staff?

"Discretion is of the utmost importance to us, sir." And without another word, Brian was sent on his way.


	3. Part Three

For giving the rest of the hotel as big of an overhaul as it had, Brian was actually quite disappointed in the room itself. Not much had changed there. Oh, sure, the paint was no longer peeling from the walls, and the heater worked, but it was still generally the same room as before. The room itself was still tiny. There was a bed in the corner, a few wall sconces and an overhead lamp, a couch against the opposite wall, a writing desk near the window, and a tiny bathroom off to the side. Looks sure had been deceiving by the looks of the lobby.

Brian found his suitcase near the door and walked over to retrieve it. He quickly unpacked his belongings and then laid down across the bed, sighing. He needed a game plan, a strategy, anything... How on earth was he going to do this? He rubbed at his temples and tried to concentrate - where would he go if he were Sally?

As if a lightbulb had gone off over his head, he nearly jumped up from the bed and hurried back out the door.

* * *

Brian wandered the streets of Berlin, amazed at just how little was even _remotely_ similar to how it had been before. Most of the street names had stayed the same though, for which he was very grateful. Not having owned a car of his own when he'd lived here before, he came to know the streets very well by walking them all the time.

He entered what used to be the nightclub district, but found that this, too, had been re-built. As this were still daylight hours, almost none of the establishments were open yet, but he could tell by the signs above the doors that this area had been turned into a red light district. Charming...

He read every last sign on the street, seeing if anything were the same as before, but all he found were promises of live girls, nude mud wrestling, sex shops, peep shows, the like. He walked to the spot where the Kit Kat Club had been, and felt his heart break when he found it had been demolished. All that remained was a pile of rubble and shattered bricks. More shocking still, when he kicked a brick out of frustration at this newest disappointment, he noticed a familiar shade of red on its side. He knelt down amongst the rubble and carefully picked it up to inspect the inscription. His heart both skipped a beat and broke a little more when he found that it was, indeed, what he'd suspected:

_**S.B. + B.R.**_

Brian sighed heavily as his mind wandered back to the evening that inscription had been made. Sally had invited him to come see her at the club one night...


	4. Part Four

"Oh c'mon, Bri, live a little!" Sally cried, flinging herself down on his bed. He stared at her from his desk.

"I _am_ living, Sally!" he objected, turning back to his typewriter.

"Hardly!" she scoffed, rolling over onto her stomach. Resting her chin on her crossed forearms, she continued to watch him. "You never want to go anywhere, all you ever do is work on that book. How are you supposed to write about life if you never live it?"

Brian turned around in his chair to look at her again, resting his hand along the topside of the back of the chair. He opened his mouth to object again, but found no words would come; Sally did have a point. The only thing he could think of to say was, "How am I ever supposed to finish my book if I'm always being distracted?"

Sally pushed herself up from the bed and crossed the room to where Brian sat, and eased herself gently down onto his lap, straddling his waist. She gazed up into his eyes pleadingly, batting her long lashes, and tilting her head slightly to one side cutely. She ran her fingertips along his lips slowly and begged in a soft, tiny voice, just above a whisper - the way she always did when she wanted something - "Please? It'll only be one night...please, Bri?" She poured on every bit of sultry silkiness to her voice she could muster.

Brian found he could never say no to Sally whenever she pulled the puppydog-eyes-cutesy act on him. He shook his head, smiling and trying not to laugh. "Alright, Sally. Just this once."

Sally quickly silenced Brian from coming up with any last second stipulations with a kiss. When she felt quite certain he'd be raising no further objections, she finally pulled back and looked up at him playfully; her eyes twinkling as she giggled almost shyly in that way that only she could that drove Brian absolutely wild.

"You're really something, you know that?" he said as he watched her fondly, unable to tear his eyes away.

"They don't call me strange and extraordinary for nothing, darling..."


	5. Part Five

When Brian escorted Sally to the club that night, he insisted on bringing her all the way to the stage door. Sally had wanted to have him backstage with her while she got ready to take the stage, but the tightly-cramped quarters left him feeling very claustrophobic. He promised to meet her at the door after the show, and with a kiss they parted ways.

Brian found himself a seat near the front of the stage and couldn't help but look around at the colorful patrons surrounding him. He could swear that just about every "woman" in this place was a drag queen. The amount of smoke in the air was enough to make him gag, and he found it difficult to remember why exactly he'd agreed to this again. But the moment Sally hit the stage, it all came flooding back to him, and he felt an overwhelming sense of pride as Sally sang, danced, and completely owned that stage.

Although Sally had always prided herself as being one to try and connect with each and every member of her audiences personally, Brian noticed that tonight, her eyes barely left his - especially when the lyrics seemed pertinent to him. He could swear some of these were aimed directly towards him...

_What good is sitting alone in your room? __  
__Come hear the music play..._

Well, you can't get much more direct than that, now can you? Brian watched, mesmerized by her voice, the words, even the shimmer of the stage lights bouncing off the blue beads dangling down the middle of her purple silken dress. Every last move she made was magical, and for a few moments, Brian forgot that this was the first time he was having these sort of feelings about a woman.

As soon as her segment was over, while the applause were still flooding in, Brian raced for the stage door, wanting to get there before any chance of another man getting there in place of him and sweeping Sally off for the night with him. Meeting her just as she was walking down the steps off the side of the stage, he swept her into his arms and kissed her cheek.

"You were wonderful, Sally," Brian said, smiling as he eased her back down to the floor after twirling her around with him in his arms.

She smiled up at him, seemingly unaware of the bustling busyness brushing past them as they embraced in the middle of the corridor. "See why I've been trying to get you to come see me for so long now, darling?" Hints of teasing peeked through her playful exterior.

Brian chuckled and offered a nod. Sally's eyes twinkled mischievously as it became apparent she was getting an idea. As she dipped into her pocket, he asked, "What are you doing?"

"I'm making our mark on the world, darling!" she exclaimed exuberantly with all the grandeur in the world as she pulled her tube of crimson lipstick from her pocket and quickly uncapped t.

"Sally, no, don't-- you're going to ruin your--"

But his words couldn't escape the confines of his mouth fast enough, as Sally had already turned toward the brick wall behind her, brought her hand up, and scrawled **S.B. + B.R.** inside of a heart.

Brian covered his face with his hand in almost embarrassment, feeling his cheeks go warm from blushing. "What am I going to do with you?"

Sally turned back to him and rested her hands on his chest, leaning almost dangerously close to his face, and whispered "You can start by buying me a drink." She stole a quick kiss from him before he could object, giggling. It was contagious, and again he couldn't help but smile.

* * *

Finding himself once again back in the present, he quickly wiped away a tear that threatened to escape, and realizing just how much he had lost when he made the decision to return to England.


	6. Part Six

Debating between normal, rational thought and sentimentality, Brian glanced up and down the street, making certain that no one was watching, turning the brick over and over between his hands. Feeling the coast to be safely clear, he fumbled with the brick, trying to fit it into his coat's pocket. To his dismay, no matter which way he turned it, it just wouldn't fit. Probably better off anyhow - it would have torn the lining. He removed his dark tan fedora and carefully wrapped the fabric around the brick and hugged the hat close to his side, hoping to not draw too much attention to himself by any passersby. Not particularly wanting to haul a brick all around the city, he made his way back to the hotel.

As he entered the revolving door, he didn't give much thought to the fact that he was already unwrapping the brick to look at it again. The man at the front desk, however, had different thoughts.

"Sir, you are not to be throwing that in here!" he said quickly; his broken English becoming more evident as he grew nervous.

"Hm?" Brian looked up, confused for a brief moment, before he realized the man was referring to what was in his hands. "Oh! No, no, I'm not throwing it, I promise," he replied, raising one hand in innocence.

"Then what _are_ you doing with it?" His eyes narrowed suspiciously, and his words dripped with skepticism.

Brian was a bit baffled that the man didn't believe him. "It just...I don't know how to put it..." he sighed, approaching the desk slowly with downcast eyes, ready to share both his story and his new acquisition. "I suppose you could say it's a piece of sentimental value to me." He placed the brick gently on the desk, careful not to scratch the finish. "There used to be this club that an old flame of mine used to perform at--"

"Ah, Sally..." the man said, a wave of nostalgia hitting him as he lightly touched the lipstick on the brick.

Brian's attention focused instantly on the man behind the desk. "Wait, what did you just say??"

The man looked up, sporting the expression of a deer caught in the headlights. "I... should probably explain myself, shouldn't I?"

Brian couldn't even will himself to speak, his mouth hanging open in shock. He nodded, barely able to get out the words "Yes...please!!!"

The man looked around in either direction - a paranoia held over from the war - making sure no one was within earshot before asking, "This came from the Kit Kat Club, didn't it?"

Brian simply nodded. "How did you know?"

"That Sally certainly did get around, didn't she?" he asked, his voice suddenly changing entirely; it was suddenly more nasally, more shrill. A voice whom could only belong to one person...

Brian's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "The emcee?!"

The man quickly shushed him. "Shh!!!" He glanced around again before pointing to his name tag once more.

Brian re-read it, and shook his head, smiling. It all made sense now. "I can't believe I didn't put two and two together. How's Sally? I mean...is she..." He trailed off, wringing his hands in anxiety.

"Alive? Last I knew, yes."

"Where is she now?" Brian's heart fluttered in his chest, unable to believe his luck.

The man looked over at the large grandfather clock inhabiting the lobby. "My shift ends in about an hour... Can I meet you in your room or somewhere to talk about this? This isn't something to be discussed in public."

Brian felt a tinge of sickness hit his stomach, fearing bad news if it couldn't be discussed here, but did his best to ignore it. "Yes... yes, that would be alright." He turned to head off to his room, but the man set his hand heavily on top of the brick, stopping Brian from taking it.

"I'll have to confiscate this, though. Sorry, sir." His eyes and expression echoed the apology.

Brian nodded sadly with a sigh, truly not wanting to leave behind the last reminder he had of the woman who'd changed his life. Knowing he had no choice, he returned to his room, hoping the man would be able to give him some good news for a change.


End file.
